Parvae Circumitus
by Vousnetes Passeul
Summary: The more things change, they more they stagnate. The fool inverts herself again and again, and the stage of the world is more fragile than ever before. Colours worse than wishes and curses, indeed… [post-rebellion] [100word drabble series] [multiple universes]
1. Diagnoses

She pinches herself to see if she's dreaming, out of habit. It hurts, like always – or maybe like never. What's the difference? The point is it's pointless.

They're not deliberate quirks, but like parasites the impulses infect her thoughts, exercises for people with crucial things to remember. But the doctor always – has always – will always reassure her, _it's alright, Miki-san, you've nothing to fear. _

Then her face usually burns up and shrivels. Or evaporates, unveiling a grinning porcelain visage. Or she'll cheerily leave, soon replaced by a raven-haired _devil _wearing _that smirk _, she'll _die die die I'll KILL HER-_


	2. Sunrise

Good morning!

She greets her mirror, her kitchen, her fluffy plush dolls. Good morning, sincerely, for there's new colour - touched with bitterness, maybe, but many things are, and she's had to accept them before.

Cachinnating, she skips through sunlight - _real_ sunlight! Morning! Wine floods briefly, but neither her dear friend nor Miss Nutcracker acknowledge her; she doesn't ask them to enjoy the morning. She just prays they don't mix red with the lovely hues.

It's not the country of sweets, but Miss Nutcracker's saved their saviour, and all children. Nagisa can happily endure _bitter_.


	3. Extend

11:13 PM. A night-wreathed alleyway. Two girls.

"…hey, irregular – transfer student – no, class rep…? Hell's wrong with me… shit… when'd you contract…?"

"Why, you seem exhausted… Sakura-san. You should go rest. "

"…heh… hypocrite. You… come to class looking dead every damn day, y'know? Too much hunting...?"

"That's my business."

_if we defeat the witch, I will leave this city all to you__  
_

_you can do whatever you want_

Dancing colours, like the arcade; she wants to retch, but...

_if she's too tough for one_

"Seems kinda lonely being you…"

_we could _

A small scarlet box.

_team up_

"Want some?"


	4. Guardian

The statues watch her sometimes.

It's unsettling, truthfully. Strangeness might be irrevocably part of Mami, but this is different from incantations and ribbons and muskets. Inexplicable.

She might accompany Nagisa somewhere, and notice a stone head twisted unnaturally in their direction. Or exit the patisserie and glimpse an effigy across the street, where it _wasn't _before_._

One night, rushing through a neighbourhood of glass because she's kept Kyouko waiting, Mami notices one decorating someone's lawn - a string of just-barely-recognizable, blood-splattered white masses spiked on its spear.

She shrieks.

She's forgotten by morning.


	5. Make-Believe

_pssssst – hey – don't trust mother_

_shhhh! mother says we're not supposed to talk to her_

_relax, would ya? she can't actually hear us_

_but mother can! although, since when do we follow mother's rules?_

_mother is mother, but mother's also a good-for-nothing, y'know? that's why she can't sleep anymore_

_shut up shut up shut UP mother'll kill us_

_she'd never do that to us! we're her children_

_oh? look what she did to her precious GODDESS!_

…

_well we aren't leaving now, are we?_

_why, hello, it's very nice to meet you_

_we're the Devil's dolls_

_and so _

_are you!_


	6. Flipside

They're confused. One second - era - millisecond - they rejoiced among cherry blossoms; abruptly, everything's splintering, and _she -_ luminescence, guidance, hope - is muted. They're left in near-noiseless vacancy; _why_?

They're frightened. Not just for themselves, but for _her_. Terror. Betrayal. Despair. They'd sensed hers, momentarily. But now, nothing's present - no record of her, nor of Paradise.

They're _angry!_ The sanctuary she surrendered everything to give them became emptiness and death. A void that murders girls instead of providing salvation. How did this _happen_?

God's in the world, all's wrong with Her Heaven.


	7. Decay

Some days, Kazuko worries about her students – one in particular.

Youth is something sacrosanct, precious, to be cherished for as long as possible! Like cherry blossom petals, it flutters away eventually. So, to see the state of one Homura Akemi is agonizing.

Fourteen years old, yet her eyes are always _so _joyless and exhausted, now. A middle-school student, speaking with the experience and grace of a woman who's lived a century. A child, ultimately, who seems so much more yet _less._

(Once upon a time, the girl reminded her of dear Junko. Not anymore.)

She's a little bit scary, truthfully.


	8. Crash

In her dreams, she was a hero.

She darted through cities of glass, deserts, forests; living inside time's creases and notches, she dived into humanity's decayed heart, little girls left starving and homeless and lonely. An army of puppets fought tomorrow and will fight yesterday-

_(once upon a time, she sliced strings with thorns and saved charred-black souls)_

_-_while she comforted and purified and justified.

Amethyst sparkles vainly while a salamander sneers; she catches fire while dolls drag her down and mock her. A coal-miner's daughter cries and cries and smiles with chapped lips.

In her dreams, she's a failure.


End file.
